shoulder to shoulder with him. At least she’d put her clothes back on...
“Soul Sucker, why didn’t you relay my message?”
“That you want him gone from Otherworld because you’re scared of him? I think he knows that already.”
His father’s assessing gaze swung around to Ella. Inwardly Vadim groaned. Sometimes his mate’s ability to piss people off was a real liability.
“You’ve forgotten what I offered you so soon?”
“I haven’t forgotten anything, because I didn’t agree to anything. You disappeared in a huff before I could make up my mind.”
“
Something of the urgency in his voice must’ve got through to her, because she paused and looked up at him. “What’s wrong?”
“I think he’s trying to remind you that I am Fae royalty and that I’m not used to being treated with such disrespect.”
Ella raised her eyebrows. “What are you going to do? Set Morosov on me? He won’t harm me.”
Vadim looked at his father’s face and saw it then, a hint of fear quickly masked. He steeled himself as his father’s golden gaze swung back toward him.
“Death Bringer, all is not as it seems.”
“In what way, Father?”
“Your mate has not been telling you the truth.”
“I doubt that.” He reached out a hand and grasped Ella’s arm, holding her close. As long as they were linked, he no longer thought his father was strong enough to beat them. “Mates cannot lie to each other.”
“She intends to do you harm.”
“And you don’t?”
His father ignored the question, and pointed over at Ella’s backpack.
“Search her possessions.”
“Hey, that’s my stuff. There’s nothing in there that could hurt a fly.” Ella lunged for the backpack as the king sent it flying toward them.
“She lies, Death Bringer.”
“Ella, let it go, he’s just—”
She leaped for the backpack separating herself from him, and everything seemed to slow down. His father’s magic swept between them, cutting her off from him and immobilizing her in midair.
“Don’t you wonder why she wants her backpack so badly?”
“Let her go, or I will retaliate.”
“She has my mark on her. Shall I let her die of it?”
Power sizzled between them, scorching the grass. A void opened in the shield and several Fae guards stepped through.
“What do you want?”
His father drew himself up. “Justice?”
“For what?”
“For those you killed?”
“You were my master, I killed where you bade me!”
“Not at the end.”
“What are you saying?”
“I want justice, Death Bringer, for Ciaran and Nia.”
“No!” Vadim took a hasty step forward, but it was too late. The guards surrounded him.
“Don’t fight them, and I’ll keep her alive to watch you stand trial.”
His last sight was of his father standing tall in the clearing, his predatory smiling gaze fixed firmly on an immobile Ella.
“Where’s Morosov?” The moment the spell lifted, Ella started speaking.
“He’s quite safe.” The Fae king looked up from the scroll he was reading. “You will see him presently.”
She was sitting in a chair in what appeared to be an old library. Her backpack had disappeared again. She tried to get up but was unable to move.
“I’m starting to hate this place.”
Just to make a point, she focused down, found the spell and blew it away. Standing up, she stretched and headed toward Vadim’s father. Her ankle felt fine, although her shoulder still throbbed.
“Very clever, Soul Sucker. It seems as if you are developing some magical talents of your own.” He turned toward her. “But there is no point in running away or seeking trouble. Your evidence will be required very shortly.”
“Evidence for what?”
“Death Bringer’s trial for murder.”
“Oh, that.” She frowned. “But what about the sect? Don’t they have priority?”
“Over a trial for the wanton spilling of Royal blood? I don’t think so. They will be content to wait for our verdict.”
“So Morosov will get off, then, and live to fight another day?”
The Fae king smiled. “You are so amusing, my child. Just remember that if you want your mate to live long enough to stand trial, you must behave yourself.”
A bell began to toll and he stood. “The trial will be starting very shortly. Come with me.”
Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of anything to do but follow him. Four Fae guards fell in behind her as they marched along a series of hallways and down the wide stairs. As soon as her feet hit the ground floor, the guards closed around her and she could see nothing but their broad shoulders and armor. They continued to move forward and eventually came into a less crowded space, which smelled of old books, ink and dust.
Above her head there was an ancient hammer-beam ceiling, the beams darkened with smoke. The floor was wooden planks and scratched and dulled with age. It reminded her of photos of the thousand-year-old Westminster Hall in London, where the English parliament used to sit.
“Sit here.”
She did what she was told, aware that Vadim’s life was currently in her hands. Was that what they were hoping? That she’d accidentally lose it and give the court the excuse they needed to execute her mate?
While she waited, she surveyed the scene. Slightly raised on a platform, a long oak table with five chairs dominated the end of the room. In front of the table was a stand, and on either side of the stand were two smaller tables, just like a regular courtroom. Behind her were several rows of benches, currently unoccupied. She looked around for the Fae king, but there was no sign of him.
“Hey, you.” She nudged the nearest guard. “Is this trial open to the public?”
He looked down at her from his considerable height. “No, Soul Sucker. It is a matter for the blood Royal to determine alone.”
She winked at him. “Thanks, handsome.”
He tried to look stern but failed and had to look away from her. Somewhere trumpets blared. The guard slid a hand under her elbow, bringing her to her feet.
“All rise.”
A door opened to the right of the long table and several figures emerged. Ella recognized Vadim’s grandmother, mother and father, but not the last guy.
“Who’s the dude with the white hair?” she whispered to the long-suffering guard.
“That is a representative from the Dark Court.”
